A Kind of Royalty
by alwaysaclaw11
Summary: Following an unexpected weekend in Las Vegas, Draco and Hermione try to return to their normal lives but their feelings keep getting in the way.
1. Draco's Las Vegas

Draco adored Las Vegas. The bright lights, high rollers and fast women. It was bloody heaven compared that hellhole he once called home. He couldn't be in Malfoy Manor without hearing the screams caused by that crazy half-blood psycho.

But Vegas. Vegas was explosive, indulgent. He leaned against the wall by the blackjack tables in his ten-thousand dollar suit, swirling the whisky in his hand. Across the room, in a candy apple red sequined dress, the best legs he'd seen in his life were walking toward him. His eyes followed the curve of her calf to her knee past the hem of her dress up her body until-

"Granger?" he spat, mortified he'd just been checking out Hogwarts resident bookworm, Hermione Granger, Potter's best friend and one of the many screams in that haunted manor of his.

"Malfoy?" Hermione's eyes widened.

He smirked, covering the flash of memories of what Bellatrix had done to her. If he wanted to survive, he couldn't think about those things. He had to shut it off. "Fancy seeing you here."

"It's stranger that you're here. Aren't your afraid they're going to spill their muggle juice on you?" She tucked a smooth curl behind her ear. _When did she get so seductive?_

Trying to keep that veneer of always-cool-Malfoy, Draco nodded at the cocktail waitress in her skin tight green mini skirt. "She can spill whatever she wants on me."

"You're disgusting." Hermione huffed.

"I prefer charming."

With a sigh, she spun on her black high heel. "Good bye, Malfoy."

He grabbed her arm, not ready to let this fun possibility go just yet. Even after the last five years he still wanted to drive that Gryffindor mad. "What _are_ you doing here?"

"I got a job as a dancer in one of the shows."

"I would pay to see that."

She sighed, her shoulder slumping. "A friend's wedding."

"I thought this was where muggles got married when they were drunk or didn't want anyone to know. Or, you know, if they wanted their alcohol to light up?" Draco nodded at plastic souvenir cup flashing green and blue. He really hoped people didn't go home, sit in their parlor and drink out of those things. Wasn't that the whole rationale behind 'what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas'?

"What can I say she's eccentric," Hermione replied.

There was only one person Draco knew of who could make Hermione Granger say eccentric like that: Hogwarts resident nut case.

"Merlin, it's Luna Lovegood. Who's crazy enough to marry that crackpot?"

"She's not a-" Hermione pursed her lips and crashed down at the old slot machine near where Draco stood. "Ron Weasley."

"Wasn't he _your_ boyfriend?"

By the way Hermione's eyes narrowed, Draco knew he remembered correctly. He loved a jealous girl in search of a self-esteem boost. Who better to give it than him? And the fact it was Potter's little sidekick made it that much sweeter.

"Hey miss, can you do me a favor?" He smiled at the cocktail waitress and she swept over quickly.

"I'll do anything you want." The waitress winked her over-shadowed eye, but Draco wasn't in for that easy of a night. Besides, he didn't carry on with the staff. Hermione made a subtle gagging noise.

"Get her whatever she wants." Draco nodded toward Hermione.

"Oh," grumbled the waitress.

Hermione sat up straight, scorching the waitress with that terrifying glare Draco had been on the receiving end of a few too many times. "Scotch on the rocks."

_That's my kind of a woman's drink._

Scowling, the waitress scurried off.

"I took you for a daiquiri drinker," he said, sitting down at the slot machine beside her.

"When I drink, I want to drink. I don't like when things pretend to be something they're not."

Draco leaned closer, smelling her rose perfume. "Good to know."

The waitress brought the scotch and everything went downhill after that.

With a smirk on Draco's face, he leaned in. "Ron's an idiot."

Hermione rolled her eyes, tumbling forward a bit. "Oh, shut it Malfoy."

"Who in their bloody right mind picks Luna Lovegood over you?"

"What are you saying, Malfoy?"

With a quick snap of courage, he laid his hand on her knee. To his surprise, she didn't pull away. "You want to get out of here?"

Hermione nodded and that was all the permission Draco Malfoy was going to get and all he needed.

Draco grabbed Hermione's hand and they rushed through the casino to the elevators, the bright lights blurring in a drunken haze as they passed. He dragged her into a service elevator and pushed a few of the glowing buttons.

"I don't think we're allowed here," said Hermione.

"We're allowed anywhere we want, Granger."

"How do you figure that?" She stumbled forward as the elevator stopped, tripping into Draco. He caught her, two hands on her waist, his heart jumping.

"I own the casino," Draco breathed.

They stepped onto the roof of the casino. Las Vegas was a million lights, like stars fallen to earth and caught in the trees and on the building eaves.

Hermione let out a long breath as she closed the distance between her and the edge of the roof. Draco rushed up to make sure she didn't go too far. Last thing he needed was someone to fall off the roof of his building. Bad for business – not to mention Potter would kill him in his sleep. And, if he was being honest, he didn't really want Hermione to fall.

"Trying to impress me, Malfoy?"

"Is it working?" he asked as her eyes sparked with the array of light.

"Not even a little." She laughed. Draco could tell she wasn't saying the whole truth as she looked thoughtfully over the view, leaning on the railing. Draco came up beside her.

"He was supposed to marry me, you know?" said Hermione. "We talked about it. All the time. About our kids and our house and jobs. Well _his _job. We just fought all the time. Like every second. About every thing. It was exhausting."

"So you're not upset he's marry Loony?"

One of her well-groomed eyebrows lifted attractively as she turned towards Draco, a careless grin on her face. "Her name is Luna – and no, not really. I just want what they have. What Harry and Ginny have." She patted him on the cheek, staring wide-eyed and pensive. "You have sexy eyes, Malfoy." Her words slightly slurred.

"I think you're drunk," whispered Draco.

She stood back straight. "I'm perfectly fine. Grangers can hold their liquor." Hermione tripped forward again. Draco captured her shoulders, standing her upright.

"I see that." He laughed under his breath.

"If you weren't such an condescending, arrogant, prejudiced prat, you'd be very handsome."

"And if you weren't such a bossy, over-bearing know-it-all you'd be- oh who I am kidding, you're still bloody beautiful." His fingers stroked one of her loose curls as the moonlight illuminated the soft curves of her face.

"I think you're a little drunk too," she breathed.

"Actually, I'm not." Draco's hand cupped her cheek and pulled her in for a kiss. When their lips met, it was better than alcohol, better than cigarettes, better than gambling or any of Draco's many vices. It was the best kiss he ever had and it came from his childhood enemy, Hermione Granger.

The universe had sick twisted sense of humor.

**A/N: I 've missed writing quirky/romantic Dramione - and really Dramione in general. And I had this idea so I hope you like it. Please review if you get a chance.**


	2. Hermione's Surprise

The night came back to Hermione in murky flashes.

_Drinking._

_Grey eyes._

_A roof and lights._

_And, oh mother of Merlin, a kiss._

A kiss like the tide pulling to the shore, salty waves brushing against the sand. Sweet and fresh and endless...

But who did those sea lips belong to?

Hermione shot straight up from the bed she lay in, looking frantically around the room. Plush black carpet. Bright open windows. A kitchen. A grand piano.

Her room had a mini-bar and double sink. This was most definitely not her hotel room.

"Morning, Granger," drawled a cool, familiar voice.

_That was... What had she done?_

Draco Malfoy stood in the bathroom door, leaning against the frame, smirking. His normally combed hair was messy and wet. He wore nothing but a white hotel towel wrapped around his waist.

_Why does he have to have sexy quidditch abs?_

"How drunk _was_ I last night?" she suddenly shouted, not really meaning for Draco to answer. She was just sending out a random query to the universe she had apparently offended.

There was no way, no way on this earth, she had done _that _with Draco Malfoy? None. Whatsoever. Right?

She'd have to enroll in some sort of deep soul-cleansing ritual on top of a mountain in Tibet or something.

Hermione reached down, feeling her red sequined dress still clinging to her body. _Best news ever._

"You were pretty drunk."

"So we didn't-"

"I don't sleep with drunk girls." Still in nothing but a towel, Draco grabbed a bottle of water off the table and cracked open the lid, taking a sip. A little drip slipped out of his mouth and ran down his chin.

Why was she staring at – then she remembered. She may not have slept with Draco Malfoy but she most certainly kissed him.

Maybe there was a part-time program at that tibetan soul-cleansing retreat.

Her heart skipped. Today was Ron and Luna's wedding. "What time is it?" she asked, leaping out of bed, searching frantically for her shoes.

"They're by the door," replied Draco. "And it's 10 in the morning."

Hermione grabbed her head, the throbbing from last night's drinking disaster beat against her skull like the tiny fists of a thousand rioting goblins.

_I am never drinking again._

"Wait – did you say 10? Dang it. I'm going to be late. The wedding is in half an hour. I'm a bridesmaid."

Draco raised an elegant eyebrow, making Hermione stomach twitch uncomfortably. "You're a bridesmaid at your ex's wedding? Do you at least have a date, Granger."

"No. I don't," she replied, slipping on her heels.

"You could bring one." Draco stretched an arm over his head, flexing his bicep. "I'm free this morning – and who has a morning wedding in Vegas?"

"It's unusual so it's Luna and cheap so it's Ron."

Draco laughed.

Hermione pursed her lips. "I didn't mean – and I'm not taking you."

"Why? Because it will seem desperate and petty?"

"Yeah. You know why?"

"Because it's desperate and petty," replied Draco.

"Where's my purse?" asked Hermione. Still smirking and half-naked, Draco grabbed Hermione's purse which was sitting on the grand piano and handed it to her. "Why was I in your room last night?" she asked.

Draco's cheeks blushed and he bit his lip like he was trying to hold in a laugh. "You couldn't remember what hotel you were staying in."

"Oh. Well, uh, thanks for- oh, never mind." Hermione grabbed the door handle. Draco's hand fell on hers, her mouth becoming suddenly dry at his gentle touch.

"Have dinner with me tonight?" he whispered in her ear. Hot breath played along her earlobe, making her cheek and neck tingle.

"No."

"If you can honestly tell me that last night's kiss wasn't the best of your life, I'll let you walk out that door right now and leave you to your boring bookworm existence with nary a protest."

That kiss was... it was...

She sighed. "Pick me up at eight. And, by the way, I'm staying in this hotel."

Draco licked his bottom lip and nodded. Her face flushed.

_Does the floo network connect to Tibet?_

**Thanks for reading. Please leave a review - and thanks for the favorites, reviews and follows so far. I also try to respond to everyone who reviews. Thanks again!**


	3. Desert Dates

When Draco found Hermione sitting in the lobby of his casino in a gold chiffon dress and sandals, he could hardly believe it. He assumed she would stand him up, but there she was. And with his heart suddenly lodged in his throat, he started to wish she wouldn't have showed. If anyone ever found out... it could ruin things for both of them. But when she turned and smiled at him, Draco couldn't care less.

They exchanged awkward pleasantries then she followed him through the maze of a casino and into the parking garage. Without so much as two words to each other, they weaved around the SUVs and mini vans until they came to a sleek silver sports car with tinted windows and a body you could see your reflection in.

He was so proud of that car.

Draco opened the passenger side door. "Get in."

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "In what?"

"The car."

She looked unconvinced. "That's a Ferrari."

"Why, yes it is." He grinned. Draco Malfoy had many cars but this one was his favorite. At least of the legal non-flying type. There were times he missed that red Aston Martin he had back home.

"Who's car is this?" she asked, her voice still skeptical.

"Mine, Granger."

"You know how to drive?"

"I'm actually very good at it. Now get in."

With that, Hermione sighed and slid quickly into the passenger seat. Draco popped open the driver's door and sat down, loving the smell of the fresh leather. The smell of freedom.

He drove through the Vegas traffic, past the shining hotels, and the stumbling tourists. He turned twenty-one two years ago and had spent most of his time here since then. Even though it was busy and packed with muggles, there was something about it that felt like home. More like home than Malfoy Manor did anyway.

Draco turned on a back street and weaved his way out of town and into the fading sunset sky that painted its colors over the desert. Hermione looked over her shoulder, her hair swinging, giving Draco a whiff of her sweet perfume. His stomach twitched and he tried to ignore the sensation.

"I thought we were going to dinner."

"We are... sort of."

"Where?" she asked, arms crossed.

Draco sighed. "Can't you just enjoy the surprise?"

"No. For all I know you're taking me out to the desert to kill me."

"I own a Las Vegas casino. I have a back room and big burly guys with brass knuckles who do that."

Draco's eyes flashed to her, a smile tugging at his lips. Hermione rolled her eyes. "What is this?" she asked.

Draco turned his Ferrari under the less-than-impressive lights of the Shell station at the turn in the road. He parked the car in front of the convenience store, his headlights shining against the window.

"The last gas station for two hundred miles," said Draco, a hint of excitement in his voice. He loved that feeling of being in the middle of nowhere where anything could happen, where anything could be true.

Hermione stepped out of the Ferrari as Draco did. The desert wind twisted her hair as she chewed on her lip, looking out at the endless dry flatts. "Are you taking me coyote hunting?"

"No. But that's a good date idea," he joked.

"If you're dating Paul Bunyon," she whispered, but Draco could hear her. He had no idea she had such a good sense of humor.

Draco breathed in the familiar stale scent of the gas station. He came here often when he wanted to get away from the chaos of the Las Vegas strip and enjoy the fresh dry air of the nearby desert. Draco turned, smirking at Hermione. They were both overdressed for the gas station. Her in her dress and he in his black suit and thin black tie. But then again he almost always wore a suit.

"Get whatever you want," said Draco.

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "At the gas station."

Wanting to make Hermione laugh, he picked up the nearest item, a box of some sort of cake-like snack. "They have beef jerky and something called a ho-ho, and Slurpees. I'm getting a Slurpee. You want a Slurpee, Granger?" Draco slid across the tile floor to the Slurpee machine. The Slurpee was one muggle invention he could get behind.

Hermione's mouth was agape. "Uh. Sure."

Smirking proudly, he made a super-sized cherry slurpee and grabbed two straws. He bought those strange ho-ho things, a bag of beef jerky, chips and a couple of chocolate bars.

_Mother would kill me if she knew this is what I was eating for dinner._

Hermione just stood there, looking dumbstruck, speechless. An unusual but good look on her. Draco pulled out his wallet and paid the thin, balding man behind the counter. Draco knew him well. He was working there almost every time Draco stopped.

"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy," said the man.

"Have an excellent evening, Raul." Draco nodded, his grey eyes flashing to Hermione as he grabbed the plastic bag of food and handed Hermione the Slurpee. Draco had never taken any of his other dates into the desert. That was his place to be alone, to shoot charms into the blackness of evening, into nothingness and know he'd never be found out. But when he went to make a reservation for tonights dinner, he couldn't stop thinking about what Hermione would like, windswept, at the top of his favorite plateau.

"I had no idea this is what you meant by dinner," said Hermione taking a tentative sip of the liquid. The cherry flavoring made her lips even redder. Draco felt the strangest urge to lick the color away.

He swallowed. "Disappointed?"

As she sat back down in the passenger seat, Hermione let out a small, uncertain laugh. "Surprisingly, I'm not."

**Thanks for reading. Please review. I'm planning for short chapters updated often for this fic so I hope that works. Anyway, thanks again!**


	4. Desert Kisses

Hermione gripped the door handle as Draco rolled down the windows. The warm night air whipped against her face, tossing her hair. The air smelled clean, fresh, a million miles away.

"How far are we going?" asked Hermione, her fingers still squeezing the leather handle.

Draco glanced over briefly, eyebrow raised. "You scared, Granger?"

She shrugged. "Of you? No." Her heart thrummed. She felt a little afraid but of what exactly she did not know.

Draco ran his hand through his white-blond locks messing them up in just the right way. "Good."

The night was so black. The blackest she'd seen in years. She could hear coyotes howling in the distance – and the moon and stars were beautiful and clear.

"Are we almost there yet?" The question let her lips in a breath.

"Just a few minutes." Draco stepped on the gas and the car revved forward, the groaning sound cutting through the stillness.

Hermione leaned back on the expensive leather. She couldn't believe she was here but after spending all morning at her ex boyfriend's wedding she knew she needed to do something reckless, to start trying to move forward. Do something she'd never have dreamed of doing.

Draco Malfoy was a good place to start.

Draco pulled the car into park at the top of desert cliff at the end of craggy dirt road. Hermione was surprised they could make it to the top in a Ferrari.

Draco opened the door and stepped out. Taking a deep breath, Hermione followed him. Since they were no longer whipping down narrow lanes in a car, Hermione realized the air was still. In the distance, she could see glittering Vegas but her eyes did not want to look that way.

Not it was the great expanse of nothing spread out before them. Painted a deep blood red by the moon and the darkness and the shining headlights of Draco's car. Her breath caught in her chest. She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen something so beautiful.

"This is my favorite place in the world," sighed Draco, taking the final few sips of Slurpee. The bubbling sound as it came to an end made Hermione have to stifle back a laugh. He tossed his empty cup back in the car, shut the door and jumped on the hood. His eyes lit as he looked over the nothingness.

Cautiously, Hermione sat next to him. "Even better than the casino roof?" she asked.

His head tilted to look at her. "You be the judge of that."

Hermione straightened out her dress, let out a long breath and pushed all her thoughts away (a difficulty for someone like her). It was spectacular. "Wow."

He smiled – and Hermione couldn't see the desert anymore. Just his row of pearly teeth, the front middle one slightly crooked. Enough to make it special. "You like it?"

_What am I thinking? This is Draco Malfoy!_

But she couldn't stop thinking it. Not when he was smiling at her like that. "Way better than the roof."

There was a silent but peaceful pause. Then Draco pulled his wand from his pocket. "Let me teach you something."

Hermione bit her lip to hold in a laugh. "_You_ teach _me _something?"

Draco held his wand out in front of him, the tip pointing into the great desert emptiness. "Well, stop me if you already know how to do this." He took a deep breath and said, "Incendus Ignitus."

There was a loud crack. In the sky, a flower of fire light appeared, glistening and shimmering down until they disappeared. Magic fireworks. Hermione grinned so wide it hurt her cheeks. That was one spell she didn't know. She hadn't even heard of.

"Did you invent that spell?" Hermione blurted.

Draco glanced down at his wand, a darkness floating across his vision. "Sort of."

Hermione tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and glanced up at Draco. "You got the idea from the dark mark, didn't you?"

His laugh was short and his head shook. "I forgot how annoyingly deductive you are."

"Sorry."

Draco straightened his back and looked straight at her. His grey gaze was absolutely piercing. "Don't apologize for being intelligent. You should never have to do that."

_I spent half my life doing that._

Hermione nodded but the words of reply lodged in her throat. What did she say to this man who seemed just as scarred and changed by the war as she was.

"When are you leaving?" asked Draco.

"Tomorrow," replied Hermione. "When are you?"

Draco slid a little closer to her. Enough that she could smell his spicy cologne. "Most days, I think never."

"What are you thinking tonight?" she whispered.

"Maybe... someday," Draco whispered back.

Their gazes held for a moment, pausing, waiting for something, but Hermione didn't know what. That was thing though. She didn't know what she waiting for anymore. Her whole life was waiting and maybe, just maybe, she should stop waiting. Trembling, Hermione leaned in. Draco closed the distance between them.

His soft lips met hers gently. Then his hand twisted in her hair, tugging on the roots, making her shiver. When she kissed him back. She kissed him back hard. No waiting. No testing the waters. Just her mouth moving, twisting, tugging with his. A tongue swept against her lips. The breath blew out of her and she opened her mouth.

He tested like chocolate and cherries. Like the freshest, best things in the world. Draco slowly pushed her back against the window glass, his torso pressing on her chest. Hermione's hands were one on his neck and one on his cheek. His feathery hair. His rough, stubbly cheek.

And she had no idea how long they stayed there like that. It didn't matter. If it was a minute or half a day. It still would have been the romantic moment of her life.

_Why did it have to be with Draco Malfoy?_

**Thanks for reading. Hope you're enjoying it so far. We'll be returning to the wizarding world after this chapter. Please review if you get the chance and thanks for all the favorites and follows (and reviews)!**


	5. Draco's Manor

Draco stood in his penthouse, taking one last look at the place. His packed suitcases sat on a gold cart by the door, Marcus the bell boy gripping the cold metal.

"Ready to go, Mr. Malfoy?" asked Marcus.

Draco drew in a deep breath. This was his last chance. He'd return to the wizarding world for six months. If he couldn't make it work, couldn't get past the demons in that old house and his old life, Draco vowed to return to Vegas and never leave again.

"Yes, Marcus. Thank you." With his head high and his lips pressed in a tight line, Draco followed Marcus out of the room and let it lock shut behind him for the last time.

Goodbye Las Vegas and Hello... he didn't know what he was going to do.

Draco could have apparated. He could have used a floo or a portkey, but he wanted one last chance at the muggle world. At the bustle of cramped airport and the smell of Starbucks coffee. In the muggle world, he could be anything he wanted to be – and that was a kind of magic of its own.

He almost turned around, but he couldn't run forever. And something had happened to Draco that made him tired of running, ready to face his past once and for all.

Draco had a window seat on the plane. Thank Merlin for first class, he thought, as he shifted on the plush blue seats and reclined his head against the thick glass. The flight attendant brought him a glass of scotch and he swirled it in his hand as he looked over the desert.

He had a layover in Los Angeles and then to London but for now he couldn't seem to get his mind off bright brown eyes and curly hair. He wondered if he'd see Hermione again when he returned to the wizarding world. Did he even want to? What would he do if he did? Draco pushed the thoughts away. He had to. Hermione would return to her life and so would he. It would be as if nothing had ever happened.

As if he never kissed her. But it could never really be like that because Draco could never forget the sweet taste of her mouth, the curve of her neck beneath his hand.

When he finally arrived at Malfoy Manor, he stood at the door, his heart pounding. He almost turned around and left. He almost ran but something kept his feet glued the stoop. He wanted to see his parents again. He wanted to make things right. But how, Draco didn't know?

With a deep breath, he pushed open the door. Terror coursed through him. Regret too – could he handle it here? Could he learn to forgive himself with the constant reminders of what he had done? "Mother? Father? Anyone home?" he called out, needing to talk to another person before this place made him crazy.

No reply.

A few moments later he heard feet pounding down the stairs and the high voice of his mother. "Draco! Draco, is that you?"

He smiled when he saw her face. Those dark eyes and her blonde hair he noticed had started to gray at the roots. "Hello, Mother."

She flung her thin frame into his arms. He hugged her back, breathing in the familiar scent of lilac that always accompanied his mother. "You didn't tell us you were coming back?" her voice cracked. She placed a kiss on her cheek. "We have so much to do... so much to tell you."

Her hand grabbed his and she tugged him deeper into the house. He tensed as flashes of what he'd done in this place slapped him like a cold hand. In the foyer he'd used the cruciatus curse on a muggleborn named Samuel Hatters. In the kitchen he'd watched Voldemort smack his father across the face with his own cane. Draco felt all the blood rush out of his face and to his feet. He had no idea how his parents managed to stay here after everything that happened.

"Where's father?" asked Draco.

Narcissa huffed. "Dealing with the Ministry again."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh they've been doing random dark object searches every other week since the end of the war. It's getting tiresome. They never find anything."

"Not because we don't have any."

Narcissa elbowed Draco. "Hush."

Draco stopped dead in his tracks as he heard a familiar, formal but warm voice around the corner.

"Mr. Malfoy I will be conducting the random searches of your house from now on. Trust me I want to be here just as much as you want me to be here." Hermione stood by the window in a tight black skirt and white blouse. Her eyes focused harshly on Lucius Malfoy who glared back at her.

"How many years will we have to put up with this?" snarled Lucius.

"Maybe you should have thought about that before-" Hermione's eyes flashed to the cracked open doors that led to the dining room. The place where Draco had watched his aunt torture her. Where he had heard her shrill, broken screams.

Narcissa cleared her throat and Hermione's eyes flashed to Draco.

"Draco?" Surprise painted Hermione's face.

"Afternoon, Granger," he forced the words. He had no idea how to treat her. She was a Ministry official. Here to harass his family. A muggleborn. Here she was an enemy. So why was all he saw her smile right before he kissed her on the hood of his car?

**Thanks for reading. If you get a chance, please review. Things are going to get more complicated between Draco and Hermione now that they have to balance their real lives with an attraction for each other that is not accepted. Thanks for all the reviews, favs and follows.**


	6. Hermione's Tears

When Hermione received this assignment from the Ministry a few weeks back, she hoped she wouldn't run into Draco. He had said that he didn't have plans on returning to the wizarding world. She wondered what changed his mind but then pushed the thought from her mind. It didn't really matter. All that mattered was that she was here, looking at the lithe, handsome blond man, she's kissed on a moonlit Nevada cliff. One that made her feel things she hadn't in a long time. One she had to pretend she hardly knew.

Hermione swallowed, taking in the concerted look on each of the Malfoy's faces. She turned to Mrs. Malfoy. "Can I speak to your son alone for a moment?"

Mrs. Malfoy's head titled. "Why would you want to-"

Draco cleared his throat. "Mother, Father. A moment."

Draco's parents exchanged a telling glance. Mr. Malfoy leaned over and whispered to Draco but Hermione could sill hear him. "Well, alright. Just be careful what you say to her. She might be a mudblood but she's still Ministry and we don't need to be in trouble with them."

Hermione twitched at the word mudblood. It didn't bother her that much anymore but here. In this place. With these people. She would be lying if she said it didn't bring up bad memories.

"Father. Go," Draco hissed through his teeth. Mr. Malfoy nodded then followed his wife through the door.

"Muffliato," whispered Hermione, flicking her wand. She figured that the Malfoys would be trying to listen in on their conversation and that was the last thing she wanted.

Draco stepped closer to her, making her tense. She could smell his spicy, familiar cologne. "Sorry," he whispered.

She shook her head. "What are you apologizing for?"

"What my father said."

"Your father's opinion is really of no relevance to me," she spat. It was true. She had no love for Lucius Malfoy and considered it somewhat of a compliment that he did not like her either.

Draco's face hardened, a callousness Hermione remembered from their days at Hogwarts. "I was just trying to be polite."

Things had to go back to the way they were. What happened in America couldn't fit into their lives here. It was temporary escape but there was too much history between them. Too much pain and hate. Hermione couldn't get over what he'd done.

"Well you can stop, Draco. This isn't Las Vegas. We should make that clear right now."

Draco pressed his lips together, his proximity to her making her heart beat its wings. "Fine. Maybe it would be best if we stay away from each other."

_If only..._

"We can't right now."

"Why not?"

Hermione gestured to the room, her hand sweeping out in front of her. "This is my job. I do this well I get a promotion and more money. Some people have to work for a living."

Draco's eyes sparked, like dust set a flame. "You know _Granger_ the only person acting superior right now is you."

A furious jolt of anger shocked through Hermione. "You know _Malfoy _one time I was nearly tortured to death in your dining room. You probably remember. You just stood there." Her voice cracked. A part of her regretted what she said, another part couldn't deny that it was true. A part of her understood he had no choice, another part blamed him for it.

His narrow hand wrapped around her wrist, warmness flooding her veins, beginning where their skin met. "Hermione-" he whispered.

She tugged away from his grip, shaking her head,unsure of how to act, how to feel. "Don't. Just. No. I can't." Hermione darted from the room

"Hermione," his voice pleaded behind her. She couldn't stop, turn around, look at him. She had to get out of there. Tears burned at the corners of her eyes. Staying inside Malfoy Manor was not an option right now.

She stopped in front of Draco's parents, trying to hold herself together. "Mr. Malfoy, I'll be back for another inspection sometime next week." Her voice was forced and steady. Hermione didn't wait for an answer. She rushed to the door, hearing Mrs. Malfoy's voice just before she stepped outside.

"Since when do you call her Hermione?"

Hermione hurried to the edge of the grounds, to where she could disapparate, a violent heart revolting in her chest. The weight of everything, of the war, of Vegas, of Draco's kiss, crashed down on her. She grabbed the gate of the Manor, trying to hold herself up. It was no use. She sank to the ground, knees buckled. Tears betrayed her, rolling down her cheeks.

Everyone else had found a way to move on since Voldemort's death. Harry had married Ginny. Ron had married Luna. They all had these beautiful lives ahead and where was Hermione. Drowning. Fighting against a boiling hot current that kept dragging her back to the past.

She had to get out of here.

With a deep breath, she collected herself enough to disapparate, fearing the day she'd have to return to the Manor.

**A/N: Thanks for reading. Please review. I appreciate your thoughts on anything. Things that confuse you, things you like, places you'd like to see the story go. Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Even though it was easy for Draco and Hermione in Vegas - it won't be here and I wanted to show that. Thanks again!**


	7. Stolen Kiss

Draco just had to survive this inspection with Hermione today without saying something that alerted his parents to what happened with her while they were in Las Vegas.

Thing would be better if he could do that. He was thankful his parents would be present so that they would avoid any awkward alone time. He had no idea what to say to her – it wasn't like anything could come of what happened in America. It's not as if she'd ever want it to.

How could she after what he'd done?

Draco waited by the front door for Hermione to arrive. His mother and father swept into the foyer dressed in their outing robes.

His chest clinched. "Are you going somewhere?"

"Yes. I promised your mother I'd take her out for lunch." Father's arm draped over Mother's shoulder.

"Your father is quite the romantic."

"But... Herm- Granger is coming today."

"Can you not handle the Granger girl, son?" Father expelled a cold laugh.

Draco's mouth opened fell open. "Of course I can."

"Good," said Mother. "Then we will see you this afternoon." She placed a dry kiss to his cheek and followed Draco's father out the door.

He let the door shut and squeezed his hair, shutting his eyes. Why in Merlin's name did he ever leave Vegas?

There was one harsh knock on the door.

Shaking but trying to pretend it didn't affect him at all, he opened the door.

Hermione was standing there, her cheeks blushed by the chill wind, her lips crimson red as if they were freshly bitten. Her eyes were dark and earthy and looking right at them.

"Hello, Dra- Malfoy."

He swallowed, hard. "Granger. Come in."

She stepped inside and the door squeaked shut behind her. Hermione had her hands stuffed into the pockets of her grey wool overcoat.

"Would you like me to take your coat?"

Hermione shook her head. "Where are your parents?"

Draco unconsciously rolled his eyes. "On a date."

The tension was heavy in the room, a shocking weight on his shoulders.

"We're _alone_?"

"Yes," Draco whispered, his eyes locked with hers, a swell rising up in his throat, touching his lips that so desperately wanted to touch hers. He tore his gaze away. He couldn't kiss her. He could never kiss her again.

"I'll look around the house now." Hermione walked toward the staircase then glanced back at him.

"Yes?"

"Your father or mother usually walks with me."

Cautiously, Draco followed in step behind her, trying not to walk the curve of her hips in her skirt as she walked.

"What made you change your mind?" she asked.

"About what?"

She was flicking her wand about, opening up drawers and closets and even picking up floorboards.

"Coming back here. Last time we, uh, talked... you didn't seem all that interested in returning."

Draco leaned against the wall, his legs feeling oddly weak with her so near to him.

"You can't run away from your past forever," he said.

Hermione's eyes flashed in the direction of the room where she'd had that terrible encounter with Aunt Bellatrix.

"No I guess you can't." She sighed.

Draco didn't know why, but suddenly his hand cupped her elbow. She looked up at him with softness in her gaze.

"I know it doesn't change what happened or make it hurt less, but I _am _sorry. I was an idiot. I got in over my head."

Her lips pressed out into a thin line. "Do you think I blame you?"

Draco felt his heart jolt as he straightened his back, looking down in shock at Hermione.

"How could you not?"

"You were a child. I blame your parents. I blame Voldemort."

Draco stepped closer, squeezing her elbow even tighter. He stared into her eyes.

"That's fortunate for you." He breathed into her ear. "I will always blame myself."

"Blame yourself. Don't blame yourself. Doesn't matter." Hermione stared down at her high heels. "But you should forgive yourself."

Draco's fingers tucked under her chin and forced her gaze to meet his. The breath hitched in his throat and his whole body trembled.

"_Hermione-" _And Draco brought his lips to hers with urgency, with abandon. She stiffened at his touch but the brought her hands to his hair and pulled him closer.

With a gasp, she tore away from him. Her hand flew over her mouth. Then she ran down the steps and out of the manor.

**A/N: Thanks for reading and please review. Draco was right about it being a bad idea for them to be alone. **


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